so long time no see, I've missed this platform but things have been crazy with college applications and my senior year which I wanted to do well in, a lot has happened which I will hopeflly update on when I get but chance but the reason for this post is, the college essay, I wrote it on my experience being bipolar. I wanted people to see what I went through everyday because at first I wrote it about my first visit to therapy but it did't feel genuine because the question was asking me to write about a challange I had overcome but I didn't feel genuine about it. I didn't feel like I went to therapy and suddenly 'overcame' being bipolar. it wasn't the message I wanted to send to my colleges because I'm not 'all fixed' now Ya know? being this way feels like an everyday challange in which I have to overcome every single day. some days It feels like i'm staring from square one no matter how much progress i'm making. I wanted to be real but I also wanted to show that I was making progress and that everyday while being a challange is something I'm proud of because just making through the day is hard but I still do it, we all do it, everyone here makes it through everyday no amtter how hard and I'm proud of you all. you're all so strong and resiliant for it. so I thought I'd share my essay with you guys bassed on my own daily experience living like this. feel free to critic and tell me what you think and all that cause I send it off to colleges soon haha. I hope this helps some of you guys realize how strong you are and that you got this! :)

now for the essay titled "push and pull"

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because the universe decided you were strong enough to handle it dear” my dad replied. 

I’m no stranger to the dance as old as time, push and pull. I was seventeen the first time I saw a therapist. It was the end of my junior year, but I discovered I’ve been doing this dance long before that. Soon after my initial evaluation I began attending regular sessions. It’s with these regular sessions that they diagnosed me with Bipolar type 2, PTSD, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. What does that really mean? Sure, I could provide the textbook definition but most still wouldn’t know what it truly means to live my life for “it is not the critic who counts”.  So I thought it’d be interesting to take you through what it means to live a “school day in my life” and you can put yourself in my shoes for a moment. Let's dive right in. 

 5:00am - 7:30am

 I wake up, exhausted, not from lack of sleep, but because I haven’t yet  recovered emotionally from the polite smiles and socialization of the day before. It’s not that I hate it, it’s that I get overwhelmed easily. I feel a sting of resentment but promptly remind myself to push on through and go for a jog to clear my mind, get ready for school and brave myself for the school day that follows. 

 7:30am - 11:30am

 Paranoia hits.  ‘There's something on your pants. Good grief, they’re all looking at you. No.no they’re not. Stop. Walk, just walk and you’ll be okay.’ Push. I know these thoughts are irrational yet they consume my mind until I’m comfortably in the seat of my first class. I’m inexplicably anxious but I continue to push, daring to dance the delicate choreography of push and pull. After all, I have work to do and no one can do it but me. Push. I trudge on, voices in my head, emotions tugging at my heart and a quiet determination that seems to spur me forward in the darkest of moments.    

11:00am - 1:30pm

Class after class, I smile and make conversation with people next to me but struggle to connect to anyone. It’s disheartening and frustrating. I start to feel it, the ache, the ache of hopelessness that takes hold and doesn’t let go. I’m discouraged. Bad memories and emotions push me to the brink.  “I’ve disappointed everyone, Why can’t I focus like everyone else? Everyday is a battle and I’m tired” I push and push until I’m on the brink, so what do I  do?  I pull.    

 1:30pm - 2:30pm

Pull. I offer up a word, a prayer, a hope in exchange for the strength to continue. I take a lunch pass and head to the bathroom. “Breathe, in, and out, in and out, again. Don’t let this win. You can do this. All you can control is now, and now is the time to work.”  I try this for 8 minutes before looking into the mirror, into my tired, brown eyes wondering why I’m bothering in the first place. Then, I remember. I remember all the times I’ve pulled myself up, pushed myself to go beyond the expectation but mostly I remember the joy of learning, of accomplishments and remind myself of all the things I’m allowing these mental illnesses to rob from me. I grow angry at this thought; a new tidal wave of determination rushes over me and I walk back to class, ready to work, ready to learn.  

 Push and pull: The dance that seems to rule my everyday decisions, to push through what I can and pull back and evaluate what I can’t. Life is full of challenges and uncertainty;  I know that when the time comes to face the music, I will persevere. I will dance.